I took a deep breath and printed out those pics of myself and drew four lines across the full-frontal one, as instructed by Herzog: shoulder, bust, waist, and hip. Interesting. The top three lines are virtually identical in length, the fourth is distinctly longer. So I’ve learned something. I had thought that my shape in old age was a three-dimensional rectangle – I’ve just looked it up, and learn that there is no easy word for it, like “sphere” or “pyramid”. A rectangular cuboid, shall we call it.

But anyway, it turns out that’s not how I’m shaped at all.

I had expected the next lesson to go on to the taking of specific measurements, but I’ve just watched and it’s more theoretical – a discussion of which elements of the clothes we wear lengthen or shorten, widen or narrow, the visual impression of various bits of oneself. What if it turns out that the Relax is utterly wrong for my elderly shape?

I have become a tremendous Craftsy fan. I have my eye on a new one, by a teacher I don’t know, about buttonholes and button bands. I knit a cashmere cardigan for my sister once, and when I got to the button band, Knitter’s or IK had just come out with an interesting article on the subject.

I took a lot of trouble over it. I used a pattern, from the article, in which eyelet holes occurred at regular intervals so that the actual placing of the buttons could wait until later. And I slightly and carefully stretched it, all that stuff.

But then there was an occasion – I think it was the evening you and James came to supper, Janis, but memory may be conflating separate events – when my sister was wearing it and I couldn’t help noticing that the button bands were turning inwards.

And Craftsy has lots more. Brioche; Lucy Neatby on double knitting.

Thank you for the tips, by the way, about viewing Craftsy lessons on the iPad. I tried what you said while we were away, and found that I need to update the operating system.  I’ve run into this problem before. It’s Archie’s job the next time he’s here.

The socks are coming on fine. I’m not in a hurry now, because I want to get far enough forward with Herzog to know what I’m doing before I cast on the new Relax for myself.

Don’t miss Liz Lovick on St Kilda.

Non-knit

An old friend came to see us yesterday. We had not seen him for 40 years. He used to live in our garage, in Birmingham. The garage had once been a stable – there was still a manger, in a corner – and above it was accommodation, I suppose you could call it, for a groom.

When Geoffrey first came to Birmingham he was young and poor, a research student in Byzantine studies, and his professor somehow knew about our garage so that is where he lodged that first winter. We have kept up with Christmas cards since. Our children remember him with delight. Geoffrey! Coming to tea!

We didn’t recognise him. When a man turned up at the appointed time, I hugged him with enthusiasm. But no recognition came, even after a couple of hours of talk. It was certainly Geoffrey – he recalled seeing the pussy cats swimming in Lake Van, and he is the only man I have ever known who actually claims to have seen that. But no recognition.

How often does one pass significant old friends in the street, unknown?